


the parent trap

by NoirSongbird



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Background Kinkjames, Background Lancelot, Developing Adasheith, Discussions of Past Abuse, Jewish Adam (Voltron), M/M, Mentions of Trans Male Pregnancy, Mild Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Professor Adam (Voltron), Reconciliation, Scottish Keith (Voltron), The Parent Trap (1998) AU, Trans Adam (Voltron), Writer Shiro (Voltron), adam's last name is "west", background veracxa, established sheith, yes i do know what i did there thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: Eleven years ago, Adam and Shiro were married. They had two beautiful twin girls, and everything was looking good. However, a dream job at the Kerberos Foundation in London, a continent and an ocean away from their home in California, drove a wedge between them, one that ended their marriage and sent them their separate ways. In London, Shiro met a sweet boy at a bookshop, got engaged, and found a career in YA novels. Adam never managed to love again, but he got his PhD and a career as a well-liked professor.Now, Haruka West and Leila Shirogane have found each other at summer camp, and both girls have decided that if their dads aren't going to sort things out romantically on their own, clearly they need a little extra assistance. They're identical twins, after all; surely they can manage a little swap. And since their dads will have to return them eventually, that'll get them in the same place, which might just mean all of them get a chance to be a family again. What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no excuses, I love this, I hope you all do too. *blows kiss* Will make an effort to update daily, but I may not be able to; in the event that I don't finish this by the end of Rarepair Week I'll just keep updating as quickly as I can manage until it's done!

Lotor sighed, faintly, glancing over at his best friend. At last count, Shiro had been making heart eyes across the library for nearly an hour. Specifically, he was making them at one of their classmates, and Lotor had to admit, the man _ was _handsome. Messy brown hair, dark skin, lovely brown eyes behind half-frame glasses. Adam, Lotor was pretty sure his name was, from what he’d heard professors say. He had also looked fairly absorbed in his work for most of the hour they were there, but finally, he sighed and marked his page in the book he was reading from and set it aside. Shiro mirrored the sigh, and leaned into his hand.

“He’s so pretty,” Shiro said. “And so smart, he always has such good answers in class. I bet he’s even prettier when he smiles.”

“Do you want to talk to him?” Lotor asked, fondly. 

“Yeah,” Shiro said, a little dreamily.

“Okay, go on.” Lotor encouraged, but Shiro didn’t move. A soft sigh passed Lotor’s lips, and he stood, tugging Shiro up with him. With all the fondness and affection and mild exasperation of someone who has dealt with Takashi Shirogane’s particular brand of romantic nonsense for several years, he shepherded Shiro over toward their classmate’s table, stopping a little bit away to straighten Shiro’s jacket sleeves and give him a very serious look. “Remember, _ migadi, _don’t come on too strong.” Then, he gave Shiro a little push as encouragement. 

It took Shiro a moment to get his feet under him, as he walked to the table and stood opposite from Adam, who was staring down at the papers in front of him.

“Come home with me?” Shiro blurted, and Adam looked up, blinking briefly.

“What?” he asked, which Lotor thought was a very fair reaction. 

“I—I mean, um. Do…Do you want to go out with me?” Shiro stammered. 

“Um,” Adam said, in the way of someone who was having trouble processing what was happening in front of him, “Who—who are you?”

“The man who’s gonna marry you,” Shiro blurted, which made Adam flush bright red. Lotor groaned faintly and pressed his face into his palm. So much for “_ don’t come on too strong.” _ Shiro took a breath, though it clearly didn't help. “I'm Shirokashi Taka—wait, what, no, that's no—I'm Takashiro Kashi—wait, that isn't right, either—I'm—”

“_ Takashi Shirogane,” _ Lotor said, finally, because _ someone _had to take pity on Shiro. 

“Yes, that, listen to what the smart one said,” Shiro gestured at Lotor, and Adam followed the gesture to give Lotor a raised eyebrow, but there was definitely something obviously charmed in his expression.

“Is he always like this?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Lotor said, cringing a little.

“Well,” Adam said, looking back at Shiro and leaning his cheek into his hand, “I’m Adam. And how about we start with dinner?”

* * *

“Okay,” Adam said, setting what felt like the five hundredth tub of books down on the floor, “I think that’s the last one.”

“It is,” Shiro said, sweeping in and pressing a kiss to Adam’s cheek, which made him laugh a little. Shiro also pressed a glass of water into his hands, which was as good a reminder as any that Adam needed to take a break. “How did we end up with so much stuff again, Sunshine?”

“Over two decades of thing accumulation?” Adam teased, lightly. He looked out over the room, a mess of boxes and plastic tubs and unarranged furniture pieces. It was a glorious mess, and Adam couldn’t help but be a little proud. “Welcome to our first apartment, Starlight,” he said, and he leaned in and kissed Shiro’s nose. 

“May we get someplace bigger eventually,” Shiro said, and he held up his glass of water. Adam laughed and clinked his against it, and then took a long swig. 

“You know,” he said, when his glass was empty and he could set it aside on the lid of the tub next to him, “we _ do _ have the bed all put together. We _ could _christen the place.” He draped his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and leaned in, grinning. Shiro flushed, which was adorable, since they’d been dating for eight months and having fairly regular sex for six of them. “I picked up a couple new dicks last weekend, thought it’d be nice to surprise you.” Shiro set his glass aside and reached up to cup both sides of Adam’s face in his hands, and drew him into a hot, sloppy kiss. Adam groaned and closed his eyes, leaning into it. He pressed his whole body against Shiro’s, all too happy to indulge.

A tinny rendition of the opening notes of “Tradition” began to play in his pocket, and Adam sighed, breaking from the kiss and fishing his phone out.

The screen declared what Adam already knew, and he frowned down at it. 

“Your parents?” Shiro asked.

“My parents,” Adam confirmed. He stared down at his phone for a moment, and then very decisively smacked it down on the tub, next to his empty glass. “I’ll call them back later. Or maybe never.” He leaned forward, crashing his lips against Shiro’s again, and Shiro moved his hands down, tugging Adam forward by his hips.

“I’m okay with that,” Shiro said, and he started crowding Adam backwards, toward the bedroom. Adam went, giggling the whole way.

They were going to make something together, Adam was sure. Something _ good. _

* * *

Shiro groaned, scrolling down Hannah West’s latest list of “suggestions” for his and Adam’s wedding.

“You know, I’m getting the impression your mother is never going to be happy with anything we pick,” he said, dryly. Adam huffed and sat down next to him, scooting a mug of tea over. Shiro glanced over as he reached to take it, and softened. It was nice to be reminded why he was tolerating all this bullshit, and Adam looking absolutely adorable in an oversized sweater Shiro was pretty sure technically belonged to him, sipping from a mug decorated with little cartoon ghosties in the trans pride flag colors, was definitely doing the job. 

Shiro was putting up with all the nonsense from the Wests because he loved his Sunshine, and he wanted to fulfill the promise he’d made when they first met. The man sitting next to him was the man he was going to marry, and that was that.

“I’m starting to think you’re right,” Adam said, and he leaned over so he could see the email Shiro still had pulled up on his tablet. “The _ tablecloth colors? _Really? That’s what she’s taking issue with?”

“Among other things. I get the impression she’s really not happy with how nontraditional our wedding is shaping up to be,” Shiro huffed.

“Yes, well, she wanted me to marry a nice Jewish boy,” Adam said dryly, “but instead I picked a Catholic-Shinto-Buddhist, and I refuse to leave my husband’s traditions out of _ our ceremony, _if we have to have this big, stupid, dramatic thing.” He took a sip of his drink—coffee, Shiro guessed, by the smell and his fiancé’s usual hot drink habits—and shook his head. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like we should just elope.”

“That _ would _solve the issue,” Shiro said. “She can’t get picky about napkins if we sneak off, get married, and don’t tell her until after it’s done.”

Adam frowned down at his coffee mug, and Shiro blinked. He knew that face. That was Adam’s “seriously-contemplating-something” face. 

“Sunshine?” He asked. Adam looked up, and he grinned.

“We _ can _just elope. What’s she going to do? Complain about it endlessly? We’ll already be married, there’s nothing she can do to change it.” Adam’s eyes sparkled. “We have that cruise planned for winter break, in a few weeks. They do weddings on cruise ships. We can just…get married. Forget all this fuss and nonsense. It’s not like we’ve spent any money yet.”

“…We…we absolutely can.” Shiro blinked, as the realization settled in, and then he grinned back at Adam. “Are you sure that’s what you want, Sunshine?”

“_ Or kokhayvim _ , what I _ want _ is to be _ married to you, _ finally. You promised me you were the man who was gonna marry me four years ago, right? So let’s _ do it. _ Run away with me _ . _” Adam said. Shiro gave Adam a soft, fond smile, and then leaned in and kissed him.

“Alright, _ yukai no nikkō _,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

Adam stared down at the test in his hand, and he felt his breath hitch. There they were: two little lines, the end result of months of preparation and trying and hoping. He dropped it in the trash and washed his hands, and then ducked into the kitchen.

“So, Takashi,” he said, and he knew he had to look giddy, “I’ve got some news. Looks like I’m gonna be off T for another…nine months or so?” Shiro dropped the dish he was washing into the sink and stared, with wide, sparkling eyes. 

“Does that mean…” He asked, and Adam nodded. Shiro flung himself forward and scooped Adam into a hug.

“We’re gonna be parents,” Adam said, because saying it out loud made it real.

“Who do you want to tell first?” Shiro asked. “I mean. Your family, or mine?”

“Yours,” Adam said, and he wrinkled his nose. “I’d like to put off my parents finding out as long as possible,” he said. Shiro sobered, and nodded, leaning in and pressing his lips to Adam’s. 

“Okay, we’ll call Obaasan in a little bit.” He kissed Adam’s nose, and the smile made its way back onto his face. “She’s gonna be _ so happy, _ Sunshine. She gets to be a great-grandma!”

“She’s gonna have to solemnly promise me that we’re not introducing the kid to _ A Song of Ice and Fire _ until they’re at least twelve,” Adam said, as seriously as he could manage. Shiro laughed.

“I’m sure you can convince her,” he said, and then he leaned in and kissed Adam again. “Parents,” he said, in a deeply reverent, shocked way. “We’re gonna be parents.”

* * *

“Takashi, it’s _ ridiculous _for you to expect me to upend my entire life and move to England.” Adam snapped.

“The Kerberos Foundation is offering me a _ once in a lifetime _opportunity, Adam,” Shiro said, and he crossed his arms. “This job—”

“_ Is in another fucking country!” _ Adam gestured around them, furiously, at a kitchen full of evidence of their life together; baby bottles, dirty dishes, a refrigerator covered in little notes to each other. Adam’s textbooks for his PhD work covered the kitchen table, next to all of Shiro's documentation about the Kerberos Foundation’s project. Then, he groaned and dropped into a chair, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t move, Takashi. I can’t guarantee that any other university is going to let me do this.” He tapped his pile of textbooks. “I got _ insanely lucky _to find an advisor who’d work with me on a queer lit thesis. I don’t know if lightning can strike twice, and I can’t move across the fucking ocean without knowing if I’ll have a safety net if I get there.”

“I’ll be making more than enough to support us,” Shiro said, and Adam inhaled sharply.

“I’m not going to be your _ housewife, _ Takashi,” he snapped. “I’m not going to live off _ your _ paycheck, raising _ our _kids and hoping that maybe, just maybe, I’ll get lucky and have something to contribute.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Shiro said, and then a piercing baby wail from down the hallway drew his attention and he pushed himself up at the same time Adam did. “Stay here, Sunshine. Read it over. Think about it. I’ll get that.”

Adam picked up the information packet for the hundredth time, as Shiro walked away, like there might be something new there, something that might make him understand.

There wasn’t.

* * *

In a quiet, empty townhouse, Adam leaned over the single remaining crib. In it, a little girl with dark hair and silver eyes slept contentedly, unaware of the awful upending that had just taken place around her.

“Well, Ruka,” Adam said softly, “guess it’s just me and you, now.”

* * *

Shiro stepped through the door of his new London brownstone, and sighed faintly. It was full of boxes, and it felt less like a home and more like a place he was going to be staying for a while.

“Hey, Leila,” he said, as the little bundle in his arms began to sleepily stir, “welcome to London.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Glossary:
> 
> _Migadi_ is a Galra word referring to a platonic soulmate; more properly it means _“best friend, comrade in arms, a chosen companion rather than one bound by ties of blood or obligations, a friend whose love and loyalty were forged in fire.”_ It was created by [amorremanet,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet) and like many fun words and many other things, she's let me borrow it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not tomorrow until i go to bed, therefore this still counts for day two,

** _Eleven Years Later_ **

Haruka took a deep breath, stepping off the bus for Camp Yaar Tov for Girls. This was the farthest she’d been from home pretty much ever, and it was sort of wild to think that she’d be across the country for multiple actual months. It was better, she figured, than being babysat all day; Uncle James, Uncle Ryan, Aunt Ina, Aunt Nadia, and Aunt Veronica were all great, but hanging around without Dad while he taught classes all day was boring, and she could only spend so much time on the internet or rereading the entire _ Princess Ruleina _series before that lost appeal.

Summer camp was much better, and _ way _ more fun. It had taken _ a lot _of doing to convince Dad to let her go across the country to a camp in Maine, like Great-Grandma Murasaki suggested, instead of one in California, but an explicitly Jewish youth camp that actually had brown faces on the website and was openly supportive of queer kids? The evidence was too powerful. Her victory was inevitable.

As the camp directors, Rachel and Rachel Jr., read off a welcome and their cabin announcements, Haruka marched over to the growing pile of duffel bags being unloaded from Camp Yaar Tov’s airport buses, scanning the pile for her bright yellow bag. Right as she spotted it and went to grab it, though, two more bags were deposited on top of it, and she frowned, hard. 

“Alright, this isn’t great, but I can make this work,” she mumbled to herself, and then she grabbed the handle on the side of the duffel and began to tug.

“You must be new,” a voice said, and Haruka turned. Standing there was a young girl with messy brown curls, adjusting thick glasses. 

“How’d you know?” She asked.

“Didn’t know you grab your bag before it got into the heap,” the girl said, and then she extended a hand. “I’m Adel Berkowitz.”

“Haruka West,” she said, and she shook Adel’s hand. Adel blinked.

“That’s an unusual name.” 

“My other dad’s Japanese, I guess?” Haruka shrugged. “It’s a long story. Anyway, can you help me out?” She turned back to the pile, just in time to see another girl grab her bag and masterfully slide it out. “Oh, wow,” Haruka said, “that’s my kind of woman.”

“Clearly a veteran,” Adel said. “I bet she can help you.”

“Hey!” Haruka called, and when the taller girl turned around, she waved her over. “Can you maybe help me get my bag? It’s the yellow one, way in there.”

“Sure,” the girl said, and she examined the pile briefly. “Oh, that? No problem,” she said, and then she did a little shifting, grabbed the bag, yanked, and out it slid. “I’m Miri, by the way.” She glanced at the address label on the side of Haruka’s bag as she was passing it over and lit up. “You’re from California? That’s amazing!”

“Do you live in Hollywood?” Adel asked, eyes going wide. 

“Are you next door to a movie star?” Miri inquired.

“Okay, no,” Haruka said, “I live closer to San Francisco than Los Angeles. My dad’s a big deal professor at Stanford.” She beamed, delightedly. “...My Uncle Ryan has directed a couple movies, though. He teaches now, but he used to direct.”

“What-ford?” Miri wrinkled her nose.

“Stanford University. It’s a college, a really super prestigious one.” Haruka knew she had to look proud, because she _ was. _ Her dad was _ awesome. _

“Ohhh,” Adel nodded. “I think my big brother’s going to go there.”

_ “West, Haruka!” _ The voice of Rachel Jr boomed through her microphone, and Haruka spun and bounced, waving.

“Here!” She called back. Rachel Jr met her eyes and gave her a nod.

“Esther Cabin!”

“Hey, that’s the one I’m in!” Adel said.

“Me too!” Miri grinned. Haruka gave a brief nod.

“Ladies, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship. Do any of you play poker?”

* * *

Leila was practically vibrating with excitement in the back of the limousine that had picked her and Acxa up from the airport. A real summer camp, in the outdoors, in _ America _ . Somewhere where no one knew she was a freak, and she might actually have a chance to make some _ friends. _When Acxa opened the door for her, she practically bounced out, spinning around to take it all in.

“Well,” Acxa said, sniffing faintly, “here we are. Camp Yaar Tov. It’s….very rustic.”

“I think it’s rather picturesque,” Leila said, and she bounced on the toes of her patent leather Mary Janes. In hindsight, she maybe wasn’t wearing the best outfit for Outdoor Adventure, but at least she looked very very cute.

“That is...a word for it, yes,” Acxa said. From her tone, Leila knew it wasn’t a word she agreed with, but that was perfectly alright. “Let’s review your father’s list, shall we?” She produced a notebook from the folds of her jacket. Leila knew they had to be attracting stares; Acxa was tall and beautiful and cut a dramatic figure in her pantsuit, and Leila’s cute little tweed jacket and skirt were, as far as she could tell, a bit unusual. She bit the inside of her cheek, briefly, and clicked her heels together, wondering if she’d made a mistake.

“Let’s,” she said, because confirming she had all of her health items would take her mind off worrying about the other girls and what they thought of her. She’d have plenty of time to make a good impression. It didn’t have to be moment one.

“Alright,” Acxa said. “Vitamins?”

“Check,” Leila replied.

“Minerals?”

“Check!”

“List of daily fruits and vegetables?” 

“Check check!” When Acxa wrinkled her nose, Leila laughed. “Check for fruits, check for vegetables.”

“Sunblock, lip balm, insect repellant, stationary, stamps; photos of your father, uncles, Aunt Zethrid and Aunt Ezor, and of course, your _ favorite _ aunt.” Acxa grinned playfully, and Leila tapped her chin.

“I don’t know, you _ did _ already list Aunt Ezor…” She said, idly. Acxa put on a mock-devastated impression, and Leila laughed. “But of course you _ are _ my favorite. And I have all of that, I’m fairly certain. We _ did _check several times before I left.”

“Yes, but you know how your father worries,” Acxa said, and she ruffled Leila’s hair—not that it did much, when her hair was long, and carefully braided by her father’s fiancé, Keith, before she left. “Oh!” She reached into her inside jacket pocket again. “A gift from Uncle Lance.” She produced a neatly cellophane-wrapped box of playing cards. “A brand-new deck of cards. Maybe you’ll finally find someone who can beat you at poker.” Leila took the package, grinning a little smugly.

“Oh, I doubt that,” she said, tucking it into her own jacket pocket. “But tell Uncle Lance thanks. And thanks for bringing me here, Aunt Acxa.” Acxa softened, giving her a warm smile, and bent down to hug her.

“We’re going to miss you, _ navrinka, _” she said, squeezing Leila’s shoulders. “And if you need anything, we’re all just a phone call away.”

“I know,” Leila said. “But it’s going to be okay. I’ll see you in eight weeks.”

“Missing you already,” Acxa said, and she squeezed tight before letting Leila go. “Have fun, little star,” she said.

“I will,” Leila nodded. And she _ would. _ She would _ have to. _

This was going to be a good summer. She would _ make it _be a good summer.

* * *

Haruka grinned, standing over her sixth opponent of the day. Her father had thought that fencing lessons were a little silly, but he’d indulged her, and now here she was, impressing her bunkmates with her flash skills. Absolutely a worthy investment.

“And our reigning champion, from Stanford, California, Miss Haruka West!” Rachel Jr held up her arm, and Haruka grinned, pulling off her facemask and shaking out her messy bob. “Any other challengers?” Rachel Jr asked, as Haruka turned to receive her waiting line of high fives. “Come on, ladies, let’s not be damsels in distress!”

“I’d like to take a whack at it,” Haruka heard a British-accented voice say. 

“Okay, we’ve got ourselves a challenger,” Rachel Jr. said. “Get suited up!”

Haruka pulled her mask back on, giving the other girl a moment to suit up before she turned around. She and her opponent crossed blades, briefly, and circled around each other to get into a ready stance. 

“Ready?” Rachel Jr. asked.

“Ready,” Haruka said, giving her foil a little flip.

“Ready?” Rachel Jr. asked the other girl.

“All set,” she said, and she did a flashy little kick-flip that was clearly meant to match and then one-up Haruka. Alright, cute.

“_ En garde!” _ Rachel Jr. called, and they brought up and crossed blades. “ _ Fence!” _

Immediately, the other girl started driving forward, pushing Haruka back. Haruka had to admit, she was impressed; no one else had yet given her this much of a challenge. She was on the back foot, blocking and dodging rather than her usual offensive, and it had her heart pounding. She barely noticed how far they were getting from the starting clearing near the dining hall; she was far too focused on moving around this British stranger with insanely good fencing skills. She barely realized that they were going up the stairs of one of the cabins, or that they were headed towards the fencing around the edge of the cabin’s porch.

That is, until her challenger declared _ “Touché!”, _caught her in the chest with the foil, and put just enough force behind it to send her over the fence and into the water trough below.

“Oh, gosh,” the girl said, “I’m so sorry, let me help you,” she bent over and extended a hand, and Haruka wrinkled her nose.

“No,” she said, “let _ me _ help _ you!” _She grabbed the offered hand and pulled, sending her rival over the edge and into the water with a yelp.

“What did you do that for?” The other girl demanded, and she actually sounded more than a little distressed, which made Haruka briefly feel guilty.

“You pushed me in!” She calleged.

“I did not! It was an _ accident, _I didn’t realize you were so close to falling over—”

“Okay,” Rachel Jr.’s voice interrupted them, and Haruka inhaled tightly, turning tos tart climbing out of the trough, “that was _ quite _a show! I think we have a new camp champ, from London, England, Miss Leila Shirogane!” Haruka made a tiny grumbling noise as she pulled off her helmet, facing away from her challenger. Leila, apparently. “Come on, girls,” Rachel urged, “shake hands.”

With some resentment, Haruka turned around.

It was like looking in a mirror. A mirror with longer hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder, but a mirror nonetheless. Same dark hair, same gray eyes, same dark skin. Same light touches of east Asian in her features—monolids, slightly rounded cheeks. 

Very shakily, she extended her hand. It had to be a coincidence, obviously. She didn’t have any siblings—or, at least, Dad had never mentioned any. Not that he talked much about her other father, or any other biological family members, really, that weren’t Great-Grandma Iris or Uncle Richie. Most of her dad’s family was found family, and from what Haruka could remember of her grandparents, before the accident that killed them? There was a good reason for that. 

The point, though, was that the fat that Miss Leila Shirogane from London happened to look alarmingly like Haruka was definitely a coincidence. 

“Why’s everyone staring?” She asked, pulling her hand back from the world’s most awkward handshake. “We don’t look _ that _alike, come on,” she crossed her arms, and huffed.

“You can’t tell me you don’t see the absolutely _ striking _resemblance between us,” Leila protested.

“Nope,” Haruka said, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you not have _ eyes _ as well as not having _ class? _” Leila asked, sharply.

“You—” Haruka snarled, and she was about half a beat forward before Rachel was over there, gently pushing them apart.

“Now, now, let’s break up this little love fest. Haruka, Leila,” she said, “I mean—Leila, Haruka—Haruka, Leila—ugh.”

Haruka set her teeth and growled softly. Whoever her weirdo doppelganger was, it was _ on. _

* * *

Leila grinned, spreading her cards on the makeshift table in front of her. This was, without exaggeration, the most positive peer attention she had gotten in her entire life. People here at camp _ actually liked her. _ No one was asking weird questions about her Dad or her Birth-Daddy; _ definitely _ no one was insisting she must actually have a mom and she had to be confused; no one thought she was a huge freak. Most of them actually thought she was _ cool. _

Except, apparently, Haruka West, but that was okay. She could handle that.

“Sorry ladies,” she said, lightly. “Two pair!”

“I’m out,” one of the other girls sighed, and the other nodded. Leila grinend and scooped up the pot—a few dollars, some jewelry, a little makeup and nail polish—and pulled it over. “Any other challengers? No?”

“I’ll take a crack at it,” a familiar voice said. Leila huffed. Of _ course _Haruka had managed to find her way here. When she wove through the crowd and Leila got a look at her, she wanted to roll her eyes. Clearly, Haruka was affecting some sort of juvenile delinquent nonsense, with dramatic sunglasses and a letterman-style jacket. 

“Take a seat, West,” Leila said, and Haruka did so, tucking her ridiculous sunglasses up on top of her head.

The game began.

Leila had laughed at Acxa’s suggestion of her finding someone who could keep up with her at poker, here in the States, but she shouldn’t have, because Haruka was, Leila had to grudgingly admit, very good. She had a flawless poker face, and wasn’t afraid to call or raise.

“Tell you what,” Haruka said, after the pot grew fairly large, “I’ll make you a little deal.”

“Oh?” Leila asked.

“Loser jumps into the lake after the game.” 

“Excellent,” Leila replied. That would be _ hilarious. _ Haruka grinned, like this was her crowning achievement. 

“_ Butt naked.” _ She declared, to titters and laughter from the girls around them.

“Even _ more _excellent,” Leila said, raising her eyebrows. A little game of humiliation, then, to repay her for the fall into the water trough. Leila rather thought they were already even, but, fine. “Start unzipping, West. Straight. In diamonds.” She laid out her cards, smugly.

“You’re good, Shirogane,” Haruka said, “but...not good enough.” Leila felt her smile drop. “In your honor,” Haruka said, in a light mockery of Leila’s accent, “a _ royal flush.” _

* * *

That jumping into a lake naked in front of other girls was not the most humiliating thing Leila had ever done for peer approval spoke to...something. Leila wasn’t sure what. At least she was pretty sure everyone was laughing _ with _ her, not _ at _her.

She ran a thumb over her _ magen David, _inlaid in each point with opals, and turned, mockingly saluting Haruka, who stood with a small group of other girls back on dry land. Haruka saluted back, and Leila spun and dove straight into the water.

It was. Bracingly cold.

She popped back up to the surface quickly, but not quickly enough; by the time she did, everyone was scattering. It was almost not a surprise to stride back to the log she’d left her clothes on and find them gone.

“Alright, if that’s how you want to play it,” she said to herself, softly, “let the games begin.”

* * *

“I swear I heard your evil clone sneezing all the way across the mess hall,” Adel said, and Haruka laughed.

“I am so wiped,” she said, from her very comfortable position being carried piggyback by Miri, “I’m gonna go back to the cabin and climb in bed and sleep until lunch.” That seemed like a lovely plan, Haruka thought.

Right up until Miri stopped dead in her tracks and let Haruka down.

“That does _ not _seem like a possibility, babe,” she said.

“Why not?” Haruka asked, fishing out her water bottle from her backpack.

“_ That’s _why not,” Miri said, and she pointed up at the roof of their cabin. Haruka looked where she was pointing, and made a furious noise of rage. 

On top of their cabin was _ all of their furniture. _

And just so they knew exactly who had done it, a Union Jack had been hung from their flagpole.

“No. Way.” Haruka growled.

This was _ war. _

* * *

The setup required stealth. Careful planning. Delicate infiltration. Breaking into the Eliyahu Cabin in the dead of night to rig it into a funhouse of messy pranks was dangerous, but Haruka was sure the results would be worth it. 

Besides, she, Miri, and Adel needed to pay back Her Majesty for making them climb onto the roof to retrieve their beds and bags.

Tomorrow, Haruka was sure, was going to be _ delightful. _

* * *

The dulcet trombone tones that heralded the beginning of another day at Camp Yaar Tov were perhaps the most annoying alarm Leila had ever had, but she was starting to get used to it, she thought. She began to stir, and stretch—and then froze, when her hand impacted something strange.

She sat partway up, and gasped softly.

The entire interior of the cabin was a web of yarn.

Very slowly and carefully, she began to get out of bed, worming her way around the strings and hoping she didn’t trigger anything cleverly tied to one end. It was all in vain, though, because as soon as her feet touched the ground she felt something horrible and sticky.

Leila couldn’t help it. She screamed.

That was a mistake, perhaps, because it woke everyone else up, which meant she got a look at all the other ridiculous things West and her little gaggle of friends had pulled. One of her bunkmates had a wig and apron made of shaving cream. Another was in the middle of a nest of fake spiders. A third had her hair gelled into ridiculous spikes. The fourth was absolutely _ slathered _in honey.

“Oh. My. God,” one of the girls gasped, “_ ew!” _

There was an absolute chorus of shrieks, and Leila stumbled away from her bunk. She felt her ankle hit a string and tug, and then there was a _ thump, _and she turned to see a basketball bouncing past her. 

“Oh dear,” she said, and she glanced up, and yes, it had tugged some kind of cardboard flap contraption down—which sent water balloons hailing towards Leila. With a yelp, she dodged the first, then the second, then the third, and finally the fourth, each one splattering to the ground at her feet. Leila felt a brief sense of smug accomplishment. “She didn’t get me,” she said, softly.

She really should not have said that. 

Almost as soon as she did, the last water balloon came wobbling off the shelf. It was absolutely massive, easily twice the size of the others. 

And Leila did not have time to dodge.

It smacked her on the head, and she was absolutely soaked, and suddenly Leila was right back in school, being taunted for being the Wrong Kind of Person.

“That girl…” She inhaled, tensely, “is without a doubt the lowest, most _ loathsome creature _ to _ ever walk the Earth!” _

She wanted to cry. Everything in her said to huddle up under her blankets and sob, and forget about the rest of the day. Surely the Rachels would give her a day, after this.

Speaking of the Rachels, she heard Rachel Sr. on her megaphone.

“_ Surprise inspection! Eliyahu!” _

Leila’s eyes widened, and then, slowly, she grinned, as the realization set in.

Here it was.

Her revenge.

Outside, she could hear Haruka, spinning some story about one of the girls in their cabin being sick. She turned to her bunkmates with a grin that had to be razorblade tight. They all looked back at her and gave sharp nods. Dodging the strings as best she could, Leila carefully made her way to the door.

“Actually,” she said, ducking carefully into the door, “we’re all quite fine in here, unless Haruka West knows something we don’t.” She glanced up, and saw it—some sort of bucket, likely rigged to the door, intended to catch whoever opened it first.

Very clever, she had to admit. All of this had taken incredible work and planning. Except for the part of her that was relentlessly panicked about the consequences, she was mostly very impressed.

“In fact, I insist you come in and see for yourself.” She put on her most innocent face. Rachel Sr. gave Haruka a sharp, serious look, and shoved past her, opening the door, which sent the bucket pouring a dark brown liquid. Barbeque sauce from the mess hall, if Leila had to guess. Rachel Jr. pushed her mother forward, away from the bucket, which meant that the last of it dumped on _ her. _

Thepush was also a mistake, because it meant Rachel Sr. hit the floor of the cabin. Leila was suddenly glad she’d avoided the central aisle between the beds, because as soon as Rachel Sr. hit it, she went sliding forward, her daughter slipping after her.

“Oh, no no no, wait, no—” Haruka gasped, as Rachel Sr. flailed to grab onto something and caught a troll toy strung up in the yarn. She tugged it, and it started the fan whirling, distributing a cascade of feathers into the room.

On the whole, Leila really was impressed. It was _ masterful. _ It would take _ hours _to clean.

“I told you it was a mess in here,” Haruka said, tensely.

“She ought to know!” Leila declared. “She _ did this!” _

“Both of you,” Rachel Jr said, tightly, “_ pack your bags.” _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the brief delay in updates! took a purposeful break day and then yesterday was Panic Attack Central, which was very unplanned, whoops. BUT WE'RE BACK.

The trek to the Exile Cabin was long, which Haruka guesses was sort of the point. It was out of the way of all the other cabins, tucked in the far back woods. 

If she were being honest, she knew she deserved this. At least Miri and Adel weren’t being punished, too, which was one small benefit. The downside, of course, was that now she’d be stuck in a cabin for weeks with her weird British doppelganger. 

Haruka took a look around, and frowned. It was the same size as the regular cabins, but with only two beds, practically split down the middle. That was fine. Plenty of personal space.

“Mind the gap,” Leila said, in a tone that indicated she thought she was making a joke. Haruka wrinkled her nose.

“_ What?” _She flopped down on her bed, dropping her duffel next to it.

“It’s—oh, never mind.” Leila flopped down across the way, rolling her eyes in a way that made Haruka feel both very small and very angry.

“Ugh, whatever. Just keep your stuff on that side, and I’ll keep my stuff on this side, and we’ll be _ fine,” _she grumbled.

“That’s what I _ said,” _Leila shot back, and Haruka huffed.

“What. E. Ver.” She went fishing in her bag for her copy of the latest _ Princess Ruleina _book, rolled onto her side facing away from Leila, and opened it up to where she’d left off. One good thing about this, she supposed: she’d finally be able to finish the book, since they weren’t allowed to leave for activities anymore and she didn’t have friends distracting her. So, that was...something. Probably. Maybe.

It was a really, really depressing something, that was for sure.

* * *

The weather, ironically enough, decided to cooperate with their isolation. On the second day, there was a massive storm, which, Haruka thought with a slight edge of smugness, meant that no one _ else _was going to be doing any fun activities either. Yes, okay, that was petty, but all circumstances considered, Haruka felt like she had the right to be a little petty.

Besides, a rainy day was perfect for curling up with a book, especially since her cabinmate seemed content to do the same. Or, well, it _ was _perfect, up until a harsh, wet gust of wind smacked into her, and Haruka yelped. She dropped the book, and immediately moved to shut the window, struggling to make it budge.

To her surprise, a moment later Leila was there with her, pushing from the other end.

“Ugh, it’s stuck,” she gasped, and then she wiggled it a little and shoved, and finally, it gave, slamming shut.

“Thanks,” she said, because that was the right thing to do when someone helped you, even if you couldn’t understand _ why. _

“You’re welcome,” Leila said, and then she glanced over at the book on Haruka’s bed and lit up. “Oh, my goodness! Is that the new Princess Ruleina book?”

“Yeah,” Haruka said, and then she frowned. “...But now I’ve definitely lost my place, which sucks a little bit. Do you read them?” Leila looked sheepish, suddenly, and her excited smile got a little wobbly.

“.....My father writes them,” she said, winding the end of her braid around her finger nervously.

“_ You’re THAT Leila Shirogane?” _ Haruka gaped, eyes wide. She almost felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. Right name, from London, right age…she was _ so dumb. _“Are you serious?!”

“Completely serious, yes,” Leila said, and she still looked incredibly nervous. “They were bedtime stories, at first, and Dad wrote them down, and then he and his agent talked and he decided to publish them, and...it worked out.” 

“That’s so amazing,” Haruka said, eyes wide. “What’s he like?”

“He’s...really great,” Leila said, and she leaned her chin on her hand. “He’s my dad, yes, but he’s also my best friend. Back home, um.” Leila’s shoulders dropped. “People don’t...like me very much? Because I’m not…the right kind of…so many things.”

Haruka swallowed, guiltily. 

“I’m really sorry. For being so awful to you,” she said, looking down at her lap. “I just...I don’t take losing well? And then everything got all out of hand, and. Here we are.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay, I think we…both let it get a little out of hand?” She said, sheepishly. “And, anyway, everything turned out alright in the end. Nothing was permanently damaged. I don't know if I could forgive you if Nevermore got hurt.”

“Nevermore?” Haruka blinked. Leila nodded, and reached into her blanket, producing a crocheted black bird from underneath it.

“Nevermore,” Leila said. “My aunt made him for me, and it’s a bit of a running joke? Because my Dad read me ‘The Raven’ when I was little, and I thought...well, I thought the raven was telling the nice gentleman his name, you know?”

“Oh, man, I love crochet stuffed animals, my aunt makes them too,” Haruka said. She fished hers out, holding up the soft, floppy fawn. “Her name is Michiko.”

“Adorable!” Leila said delightedly.

“You know, looking back, I gotta admit, the thing with putting our furniture on the roof? Hilarious,” Haruka admitted.

“And sending the Rachels sliding through our cabin? When the feathers started flying, I had to try _ so hard _not to laugh!” Leila grinned. Haruka very lightly punched her shoulder.

“You know, Shirogane, you’re alright,” she said.

“And you’re quite alright too, Miss West.” Leila replied.

“Well, thanks,” Haruka said, in her best imitation of Leila’s accent, which made Leila laugh. “So what’s it like, being so far away from home?”

“I miss it,” Leila admitted, and then she glanced outside, “though this weather puts me right back there.” Haruka laughed.

“Is it really rainy all the time?” She asked.

“Not _ all _the time, but it does rain quite a bit.” She gazed out the window, for a long moment, and then looked back. “What about you? Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, I kinda do, but I brought some pictures with me, so it kinda feels like they’re still here.” Haruka bent over and fumbled in her duffel for a moment, and then produced a small scrapbook. She flipped through it, and turned it towards Leila. “See,” she gestured, “there’s my dad, and me, right after he got his PhD.” 

Leila stared at the picture, eyes going wide, and then her expression retreated into something thoughtful.

“That’s your dad?” She said. “Just the one?”

“Yeah, I don’t know a lot about my other dad, except that he’s Japanese? And it’s kinda funny, his last name must be Shirogane, ‘cause that’s what _ Hii-obaasan _ Murasaki’s is.” Haruka wrinkled her nose, briefly, and made a tiny humming noise. “Weird coincidence, huh?”

“....Your great-grandmother is named Murasaki Shirogane?” Leila asked. “Because, um.” She folded her hands in her lap. “My...great-grandmother…is named Murasaki…and she lives in California.”

“What,” Haruka said. Then, she frowned. “...Do you have an Aunt Satomi? And her wife Naoko? Who also live in California?”

“How did you _ know?” _ Leila asked. 

“I…have a theory.” Haruka said. She flipped to the back of the scrapbook, and took a deep breath, reaching into one of the pockets. “I only have one picture of my other dad. I found it in Dad’s drawer, and I think he’d kind of...left it there and never gotten rid of it? It’s half a picture, though, and…” she pulled it out, and showed it to Leila. Leila gasped, and jumped off the bed, rooting in one of her suitcases and producing another torn picture. 

“When I saw your photograph of your father, I thought…it seemed so unlikely, but then you showed me your _ other _ father and he looks _ just like _my Da, and!” She spun, and plopped back down, and slotted the half-picture she’d produced against the one Haruka was holding.

They fit.

Moreover, Haruka _ definitely _ recognized her dad. A decade younger, sure, before he’d grown his hair out, and he was actually smiling, in a way that seemed almost unfamiliar. There was an unreservedness to his joy that Haruka wasn’t sure she’d ever seen; sure, he smiled, and laughed, and she knew he was _ happy, _but it had always seemed to her like he was holding something back. Here, he absolutely wasn’t, smiling at the man across from him like this was all he’d ever wanted.

“Oh,” Haruka said, very quietly.

“We’re sisters,” Leila whispered. “We’re _ twins.” _

“....Hey, Leila,” Haruka said, “did your great-grandmother suggest this camp to you. Because she suggested it to me.”

“She absolutely did.” Leila blinked down at the combined picture, and then looked over at Haruka. “Do you think…she intended this? Wanted us to meet?”

“I think that sounds like _ Hii-obaasan, _” Haruka replied. Leila’s eyes got wide and shiny.

“I can’t believe this,” she said, softly, and she reached under her sweatshirt for something Haruka couldn’t quite see, and rolled it between her fingers for comfort. 

“What’s that?” Haruka asked.

“Oh, it’s...my _ magen David, _I’ve had it for as long as I can remember,” she held it up, and Haruka gasped softly. It was incredibly familiar. Six-pointed star, circle, star points inlaid with opal. She reached down her shirt and pulled out her own, holding it up. 

“I’ve had _ this _for as long as I can remember,” she said.

“Seems they got us a matched set,” Leila said softly. She stepped forward, and pulled Haruka into a hug, and Haruka went, happily. She buried her face in Leila’s shoulder and squeezed tight, trying to reground her reality with the fact that she _ had a sister. _

“What’s he like? Your dad. Our dad,” she asked, in a way that was almost a plea.

“He’s…a professor,” Haruka said. “I mean, what do you think of when you think of that? That’s Dad. A little fussy, and he works _ way _ too hard for his own good sometimes, but he cares _ so much. _ About so many things, and about people. He’s quiet a lot, and he doesn’t have _ many _ friends, but the ones he _ does _ have are like family.”

“Has he ever…dated anyone else?” Leila asked.

“He used to,” Haruka said, “but it never worked out. They didn’t like me, or they didn’t like something about how much he works or how he is, or they didn’t like Grandma Hannah or Grandpa Jacob when they were still alive… lots of reasons it never stuck.” She huffed, and shook her head. “I always sort of thought he was stuck on my other dad. Which kinda sucks, because, I mean…your dad’s not exactly shy about how he’s engaged. Like half his books are dedicated to _ his Moonbeam. _”

“And Keith is really a lovely person. They’ve been together since I was five or six, and they make each other _ so _happy,” Leila sighed, fondly. “He taught me how to braid my hair, and also how to punch bullies.”

“He _ sounds _great,” Haruka said, and she leaned her cheek against her fist. “I’m glad your dad’s really happy.”

“He isn’t all the time,” Leila said, voice going a little soft. “I know he misses my birth-dad. I’ve heard him and Keith talk about it, once or twice. They try not to do it where I can hear, but they don’t always succeed.” She grinned, a little guiltily. “And they were talking about it _ a lot, _when Dad was working on the book where Ryou and Symon and Akira get together. Because, well. Ryou is definitely Dad. And Akira is Keith.”

“So…_ Symon _ is…” Haruka gasped, and brought her hands up to cover her mouth.

“Symon is _ your _Dad,” Leila confirmed.

“Do you think that’s what they want? For real?” Haruka asked. 

“Well, Keith and your Dad have never met, so it’s hard to say,” Leila said, “but perhaps? And if nothing else…I don’t want to go back to having nobody. I have a _ sister _ now.”

“And we won’t know if they like each other until we get them all together in the same place,” Haruka said, nodding slowly. “Okay, but how do we _ do that?” _

“Well, that’s simple, isn’t it?” Leila wiggled her eyebrows. “We’re identical twins, yes? And you’ve already got a decent British Accent coming along. Perhaps a little switch? You can meet Dad and Keith, and I can meet _ your _Dad, and eventually…”

“Eventually they’ll figure us out and they’ll have to switch us back,” Haruka said, and she nodded, slowly.

“Which means they’ll all have to be in the same place,” Leila agreed.

“Which means they might just fall back in love! You’re a _ genius!” _Haruka clapped, and then leapt forward to pull her sister into another hug. 

“Thank you, everyone _ does _say so.” Leila said, lightly.

“Alright,” Haruka said, “now we’ve just got to make sure they don’t figure us out too soon.”

* * *

Learning to be each other was far harder than Leila had expected. There was _ so much _ground to cover, eleven years’ worth of people and places and knowledge, but it had to be done. One slip-up around someone who’s known them their entire life and the game would be up. 

Haruka had to teach Leila a thousand obscure film facts, because Uncle Ryan, a film studies professor, would know something was wrong if Leila couldn’t quote _ Jurassic Park _ or _ Casablanca. _ Leila had to practically give a lecture on the difference between a _ migadi _ and a _ best friend, _ because Uncle Lotor and Uncle Yuki would _ definitely _notice if Haruka got it backwards.

There was Leila’s secret handshake with Uncle Lance that was practically an intricate dance. Knowing that Haruka was one of a very short list of people allowed to call Uncle James “Jimothy,” which otherwise basically included his husband and Birth-Dad and that was it. Learning the layouts of each others’ homes and what to find and what to expect.

The worst part, though, had to be the necessary appearance changes.

Leila squirmed uncomfortably as she sat down in front of the mirror, hair loose from its braid and brushed out. 

“Alright, I’m ready,” she said, glancing over at Haruka, whose hair had to be several inches shorter than hers. Haruka nodded, and took a deep breath, pulling out a pair of scissors and stepping over next to Leila. She measured the shorter, face-framing pieces first, and then reached out, taking Leila’s hair and moving to cut it. She squeezed her eyes shut, which made Leila gasp. “Don’t shut _ your _eyes!” She demanded.

“Sorry, sorry,” Haruka said, eyes coming back open. “Just a little nervous.”

“_ You’re _nervous? An eleven-year-old is cutting my hair!” Leila shot back, in her best impression of Haruka’s accent. Haruka dissolved into a mess of giggles.

“Hey, you sounded just like me!” She teased.

“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” Leila grinned. “Now, just...get to it.” Haruka nodded, and took a deep breath, and began cutting.

By the time it was done, Leila felt like half the weight of her hair was on the floor. When Haruka tilted the mirror so she could see, it was strange and fascinating to see herself with the same sort of messy pixie-bob that Haruka sported. She reached up and fluffed it, a little, eyes wide.

“This is scary,” she said, and Haruka stepped over so they were side by side in the mirror.

“Honey, you look _ fantastic,” _she said. With her hair hacked off, it really was apparent how much they looked alike. They were truly identical now, except… “Oh, no,” Haruka said, right around the same time Leila noticed the one little detail that set them apart, like a “spot the difference” game.

“No,” she said.

“I can’t go to camp with pierced ears and come back without them,” Haruka said. That was, Leila recognized, a perfectly reasonable position, but also, no.

“I can’t do it,” she said. “I _ won’t _do it.”

“Then why did I just spend like half an hour cutting your hair?” Haruka asked. “Because this _ does not work _ if something is _ that obviously wrong _, and you know it.” 

“Ugh,” Leila groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Do you even know _ how?” _

“In principle, yeah,” Haruka said. 

“Great, good, that’s very reassuring,” Leila said, burying her face in her hands. “Will it at least be quick?”

“It will be very quick, I promise. You won’t feel anything.”

* * *

That last bit, Leila learned, was an outright lie. Quick, yes. Painless, no.

Maybe in a professional setting it would have been, but in a tiny cabin at a camp, done by an eleven year old? It was definitely not.

She watched Haruka draw the sewing needle she was going to use over a lit match, and swallowed.

“Alright, needle sterilized,” Haruka said, blowing on the match and then tossing it once it was out. “You have the earring?” 

“Yes,” Leila said, nervously, holding up the spare Haruka had given her. It was a cute little opal stud, and she had to admit, she sort of liked it. What she did _ not _like was everything about the rest of this. Numbing her earlobe with an ice cube, for instance, did not really give her a lot of confidence about the painlessness of the procedure.

“Alright, just close your eyes and it’ll be over before you know it,” Haruka said. “It’s _ really _not a big deal, you’re gonna be okay.”

“I don’t believe you,” Leila said. Haruka nodded, briefly.

“That’s fine. Give me the apple,” she said. Leila handed it over, inhaling tensely. “Alright, when I say go, remove the ice cube.”

“Okay,” Leila agreed.

“Three, two, one, go.” Leila removed the ice cube, Haruka moved the apple in, and she stabbed the needle through Leila’s ear. 

_ It was not painless. _

Leila screamed, which made _ Haruka _start screaming, and generally speaking she was very glad that they were in a very remote cabin. Once Haruka removed the needle and the apple, Leila very quickly inserted the stud, and then exhaled tensely.

“....And we have to do this all over again?” She asked.

“Yeah, we do,” Haruka winced. Leila groaned. 

“Wonderful. Let’s get it over with.”

* * *

The last day of camp came way sooner than Haruka was ready for. She had to say goodbye to Miri and Adel early, _ before _she and Leila finished gearing up to switch properly, but by the time they were waiting for the buses, she was all Leila and Leila was all her. It was a weird sensation, looking at someone else and seeing a perfect mirror of herself. 

“Girls, time to say your last goodbyes, the buses are loading,” Rachel Sr. said into her megaphone, and Haruka launched forward to hug Leila tight. 

“Okay, this is it,” she said, letting go and stepping back. 

“This is it,” Leila agreed. “Remember: you’re going to find out how Dad and Father met.”

“And you’re gonna find out why they broke up,” Haruka said. Leila nodded. 

“Leila Shirogane, your car is here!” Rachel Jr. called.

“That’s you,” Leila said. “Here’s your ticket and passport. Aunt Acxa will meet you at the airport, probably with Uncle Lotor and Uncle Lance, tomorrow morning.”

“What time do you leave?” Haruka asked. 

“Oh, not for a couple hours. Give Dad a kiss for me,” Leila said.

“And give my Dad one for me,” Haruka said, and then she surged forward and pulled Leila into a hug. 

“Leila Shirogane, front and center!” Rachel Jr. called, and there was a honking from the limousine. Haruka inhaled tensely, and turned, jogging towards it. To her surprise, right before she got in, Rachel gave her a quick hug. “Buh-bye, sweetie, see you next year,” she said.

“Yeah, next year,” Haruka said, in her best British accent.

She got into the car, and she was off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am leila and leila is me. also i want to give a very obligatory shoutout to Mey and Alex and Kassie and Ink and Sam, who are my best cheerleaders and i love them. nothing i write ever would be possible without you guys!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on twitter at [noirsongbird!](https://twitter.com/noirsongbird)


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